PIGS CRY

A poem by Shelley Williams, inspired by Lucy

I give birth to five bouncing babies, then watch as their teeth are cut from their mouths, I lay and scream, Because I cannot stand and run. I have never walked on grass, I have never felt the sunshine, I lay trapped in a massive stinky warehouse, soaking in faeces and urine. I look into a puddle of water, At the front corner of my cage, It's moving. Overcome with thirst, I drink down the wriggling maggots that do not die in my gullet. They are living within me now, Eating away at my flesh, As this cage eats at my soul. I cry. I cry and bite the metal bars in front of my face. I cry as the legs from the cages around me, prod and kick me with aimless rage. We cry. We cry as a little girl picks up a Christmas Ham, And takes an innocent bite. We cry as each untold truth turns to a lie The lie that seals our fate. Some one tell this little girl, Tell her of my pain. Help her understand my world, So she can make a choice. And help her understand that, The consumer has a voice.